


Blood, Sweat, and Tears

by countermeasures



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AFC Ajax, FC Bayern München, Fluff, Implied Relationship, M/M, Poland NT, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 07:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4339139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countermeasures/pseuds/countermeasures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arek Milik and Robert Lewandowski take turns in getting injured, ruining their perfect NT plans. Starting in the game against Ireland, until the game against Georgia, and everything in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Irish Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HighonTV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighonTV/gifts).



> I'm not entirely sure how this has happened, but they're adorable together and suddenly I wrote 8000 words! Enjoy!

Robert Lewandowski had seen plenty of gruesome tackles in all the games he played so far. He had given a few, received some; it was the bad part of the game he loved. So why did this feel so different, seeing the leg of his younger fellow striker contort in a way limbs shouldn't go. He quickly ran to the referee, furious that the foul of McClean wasn't punished with a booking, but his attempts led to nothing. He looked over and saw Arkadiusz Milik stand again, carefully testing his leg. Maybe it just had looked worse than it was. It had all happened so fast. Bob shook his head, trying to clear the strange feeling. It was nothing. He gave a questioning look to Arek, and got thumbs up back. All good. Until it wasn't. 

The longer they played on, the worse the pain in his knee got. He had never been so glad to see his number go up on the board. He carefully walked to the sideline and slowly sat down with a bag of ice. Hopefully that would do the trick, icing and rest. He wouldn't be skipping to breakfast in the morning, but walking should be fine. Maybe he could persuade Bob into a massage when they were back on the hotel room. His hands could cure anything. He almost missed them conceding a goal in injury time that led to the draw because of his daydream. He started to stand up after the final whistle, slowly moving towards the dressing room, when a firm hand grabbed his arm. 

"Careful there, Arek, let me help." 

He looked up and saw Bob standing there. "Why are you here. You should be on the field, you're the captain!" 

"Always with the formalities. You're hurt. That's what matters most. Let me take care of you." 

All Arek wanted to do is slump into those strong shoulders, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. So he settled for the arm, leaning on Bob for support so he didn't have to put any weight on his knee. Slowly, the two walked to the dressing room. Well, Arek hopped more than walked, but he got there. "I'm okay, Robert, really. A good night sleep, a nice massage..." He looked into Bob's eyes, asking the unsaid, and the returned look said it all. Worry, relief. Tonight was going to be just them. 

The remainder of the game rushed by Bob, he couldn't concentrate anymore. Every time he got close to McClean he felt anger come up, but just one look from Arek was enough to stop himself before he did something stupid. The Irishman wasn't worth it. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Arek's number on the board. Better safe than sorry. Even though he still believed that sub should have happened much quicker after the foul. Not his call to make. With his mind still on Arek, thinking about what he could do after the game to help him, he completely missed the Irish goal. He slowly walked back to the mid-circle; confused that he didn't feel bad about the conceded goal. All he could think about was how bad Arek's injury was. Normally he always tended to stay behind on the pitch after the final whistle, shaking hands with everyone, but not this time. He quickly ran to the referees, and the Keane, the Irish captain, to shake their hands, and immediately rushed to the bench, to Arek. He stopped him when he tried standing up, offered him support. All he wanted to do was lift him up and carry him, avoid all pressure on his knee, but he didn't have the strength right after the game to carry a man his own size, so he settled for being a crutch all the way to the dressing room. Even it being just the two of them, Arek stayed strong, trying to comfort Robert, saying it would be okay, when Bob knew he should be the one reassuring Arek.

"Stop doing that. You're hurt, and here you are, making me feel better! That's my job."

Arek nodded, and his eyes told Bob everything he needed to know. This wasn't just any injury, he had seen it before, but he didn't say it. He didn't want to crush him right now. A massage was the least he could do for the young striker.


	2. The Waiting Game

Bob was staring at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on the bed, waiting for the door to open. The medical staff had been close behind them when they went to the dressing room, and they had taken Arek with them for tests. All Bob had wanted was to come with him, but he couldn't. He still had to talk to the press, be the captain, and he couldn't have done anything for Arek anyway. So he let him go to be examined, had taken a quick shower and went to the press line, trying to concentrate on the questions he was asked, which was getting more difficult with every journalist he talked to. The questions about Arek were especially tricky, he tried to sound sympathetic without letting on how worried he was, telling them that the striker was with the medical staff now, and that they would know more soon. After what felt like hours of talking he had finished the line and got into the bus, where the others were already waiting on him. He did a quick scan and immediately knew Arek wasn't there yet. Damn, he was right. This was going to be a bad one. He sat up straight on the bed, staring at the door. Was that the sound of a keycard? He waited a minute before slumping back on the mattress, getting back to staring at the ceiling. 

Arek hadn't properly looked at his knee since he had been in the dressing room and the medics came for him. That was three hours ago, and now they were waiting for him to be taken for a scan. He was sitting on a treatment table, and finally had a moment alone. He looked at his knees, comparing them, and it struck him that his right knee was basically twice the size of his left one. That clearly wasn't good. And with the adrenaline wearing off, it had started to hurt as well. All the prodding and bending definitely didn't help either. This was going to take longer than a night, and he wanted to talk to someone who knew how he felt. Or not talk. If only he could reach his phone. He saw it poking out of his bag, but before he could get up and grab it, the doctor came into the room again, helping him into a wheelchair and onto the table for the MRI scan. 

"Try to stay still, it will be quick and then we will take you back to the hotel."

"How long before the results are in?"

"We will know in the morning."

The doctor had been right. The scan was done in ten minutes, and after four hours of tests and waiting all he wanted was a bed. Knowing that Robert was waiting for him in their room had made those four hours seem even longer than they were. The medic insisted he used the wheelchair, to be safe, and had pushed him to his room. 

"Thanks, I've got it from here."

"Are you sure, Arek? I'm happy to help you settle in."

"I'm good. We don't want to wake up Lewandowski, you know he needs his beauty sleep."

The man nodded and left. Arek waited with putting his card in the door until he had turned the corner, knowing Bob wouldn't be asleep yet. He was right. The older man was sitting on the bed, still fully dressed except for his shoes. 

"Hi," Arek said, slowly wheeling himself in. He saw the concern on Bob's face, and tried to comfort him. "I'm okay. It's just precaution, just in case. Most likely it's nothing." He was sure Bob didn't believe him. He had a hard time believing it himself. 

Robert got up to help him out of the chair and on to the bed. "You don't look okay, Arek. What did they say? How bad is it?"

"They don't know yet. Will hear it in the morning."

"They don't know?! What kind of bullshit is that!" Bob was getting worked up.

"Robert, I'm okay. I promise. All I want is to lie down and not talk about it. Please distract me." He patted the bed where Bob had sat the whole night. He could still feel the warmth his body had left behind. "We can both use the distraction."

"Argh," Arek let out a groan. 

"What, what?" Bob jumped up immediately. "Did I do anything?"

"No, no, it's just..." Arek sighed. "I can't get my shoes off without fireworks going off in my knee."

Bob didn't say anything; he just kneeled down and started working on the laces, carefully untying Arek's sneakers. He slowly took them off and stood up again. "Anything else you need?" He gave him a sly smile. "Other things removed? Socks? Pants?"

Arek stared at him for a moment, considering his options. He unzipped his jacket and threw it on the closest chair, and his shirt followed quickly. "Actually..." He started, but stopped again. He couldn't. 

"Just say it, Milik."

"I was wondering if you could help with my pants. My knee is double in size and I'm afraid I won't be able to get it over it, but it's too tight around my knee to be able to sleep in it." He looked sheepishly at Bob, who was clearly trying to figure out whether he meant it or not. 

"You know, you didn't need to get injured to get me to help you undress," Bob teased, while carefully stripping the younger man of his trousers. He threw them on the chair, and climbed into the bed. "Anything else?" He was lying on his side, one arm propped against a pillow, leaning his head on his hand, while he started tracing Arek's arm muscles with the other, slowly working his way from his hand to his shoulder. He felt his body shiver, reacting to the man next to him. He shifted slightly so he could continue his discovery, when Arek grabbed his wrist. He looked into his green eyes. "What's up?"

Arek quickly looked down. "Great choice of words, Bob. That's the problem."

"What do you mean? It's just us, we can do what we want."

"Tell that to my knee! It feels like someone has tied a rubber band around it and keeps tightening it with every move you make." 

"Oh." Robert turned on his back. "That's not good."

"Not really, no." Arek sighed. This was not how he had pictured this week. "I'll make it up to you. I swear, Bob. The moment I'm okay again, we will continue this."


	3. The Pain Game

Arek woke up after a restless night, it was hard to fall asleep and even harder to stay asleep when every move he made caused so much pain. It didn't help that Bob had been right there next to him, wanting him, needing him as much as Arek needed the striker, but unable to act because of that damn knee. He slowly turned on his side to see if he had woken him up, only to see an empty bed. 

"I moved to the chair, remember?"

Arek quickly turned to the voice, ignoring the stab it caused in his knee. Robert was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, only wearing his shorts, toothbrush in hand, pointing to the chair in the room. He suddenly remembered, he had said every move hurt, and Bob had gotten out of bed and went to nap on the chair. "But your back! Did you get any sleep?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll get a massage later today to work out those kinks. It was easier than lying next to you, without being able to even touch you. How's the knee?" Robert had walked to the bed and lifted up the sheet to have a look. "Yikes. Does it feel as bad as it looks?"

"Worse," Arek said, even though he hadn't looked yet. "I say it's a good enough reason for room service." He tried getting up to find a menu, but Bob stopped him. 

"Don't move. I will get us some food. I need a walk anyway." He grabbed a shirt and went to the restaurant, hoping their teammates weren't awake yet. The hotel staff was already busy with preparing everything, but he didn't run into anyone familiar. He wasn't in the mood to explain why he couldn't sleep in a bed. 

"Morning, I know it's still early, and this is a bit uncommon, but can I maybe sneak inside already and grab some breakfast to take with me?" He tried to turn on his charm for the hostess. 

She smiled. "Of course, mister Lewandowski. Not a problem. I'm afraid I can't offer you any eggs or bacon yet, but the cereal and cold cuts are already put out. So has the juice."

"Thank you, my dear!" He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and went through the doors. He stacked two plates full with food, and carefully walked back to the room without seeing anyone. Must be earlier than he thought it was. 

Arek had gotten himself dressed in the time Bob had gone. He couldn't fit his pants over his knee, but he found Robert's shorts and put those on instead. He had sat down in the chair, which still faintly had Bob's scent, and put his leg on his bag to keep it elevated. He heard the older man fumbling to get the door open, without much success. "Do you need help, Lewy?"

"No, I'm good. Hang on, almost got it."

Arek heard the lock click and his roommate walked in. 

"Tadaa! Let the feast begin." Robert showed his goods proudly. "What happened with Bob?"

"What do you mean?" Arek looked puzzled at him. 

"Just now. You called me Lewy. You've never done that before. It's always Bob," Robert explained. 

"Must be the painkillers. Everyone else calls you Lewy too, why is it weird if I do it?"

Bob shrugged as he walked in. "I don't know. I like it when you call me Bob. Don't tell the others."

Arek smiled at him. "Bob it is. Now please give me the food." He stretched out his arms and wiggled his fingers to the plate. "I'm starving."

Bob handed him one of the plates and ruffled his hair. "Enjoy, tygrysek."

\-- 

After what felt like ages, there was a knock on the door. The team doctor was there with the test results. Robert quickly let him in, and he immediately knew it was bad. They never visited if it was a minor thing. "Do you want me to leave, Arek? Give you some privacy?" He asked, not willing to go anywhere. 

"Nah, you can stay. Saves me from repeating the story." He smiled at his captain. He was actually glad there was someone he cared about there with him. He turned to the doctor. "So, what's the verdict, doc?"

"Unfortunately, I come with bad news. It seems like your knee ligaments are overstretched from the impact. They will do more tests at Ajax when you get back, to give you a better idea about how long this will take, but try to accept that it will be at least a month, maybe more. The good thing is that the scan revealed you have no tears or breaks, so you got off lucky." 

"Thank you, doctor. Can I fly?"

"Yes, you're booked on a flight to Amsterdam this afternoon. We leave in an hour. If you have any questions, I will be with you to answer them all." The doctor got up and let himself out. 

Bob put his hand on Arek's shoulder for support. He squeezed softly. "I'm so sorry, this sucks. You don't deserve this."

Arek grabbed his hand and gave it a quick kiss. "Part of the game, lalka. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."

"You know I would switch with you in a heartbeat, right?"

Arek nodded. "I will work my ass off to get fit again, trust me. I'll play in our next qualifier."

"I can't do it alone, I need you there with me. But please don't push too hard."

"I won't," Arek said while he stood up and hobbled to his bag to pack up. "I promise." 

Bob watched him, and a sudden wave of worry hit him. Please let everything go okay, he thought, while he started packing his own bag as well. 

Arek walked over to Bob and tightly wrapped his arms around his waist. He buried his face in Robert's hair, taking in the scent of hotel shampoo, aftershave and just Bob. "Please don't break as well."


	4. The Phone Game

It was two weeks after the game, after getting the injury, and Arek was done with it all. They hadn't been able to give him a clear answer to how long it would take, he had heard everything from a week to three months, every day something different. There was nothing he could do but work with the physiotherapist and rest. And when he was done with that, rest some more. Two weeks and already he felt like the walls of his apartment were closing in on him. All he wanted was to be on a pitch again, run without pain, play freely. Patience had never been his strong suit, but he knew he had no choice. Taking baby steps each day was the only option. It especially killed him to see how his team was struggling in the last few games of the season. He wanted to be out there, help them, and not sit on his sofa, unable to fix it. 

The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was Robert. Before all this they had also always stayed in contact between international duty, but they've grown even closer together in this short period. Calls, texts, it had become a daily thing. More often than not, they just chatted about random stuff, Arek's family, Robert's family, spots in Poland he wanted to take Bob, and football. They always ended up talking about what they loved most. Robert knew what he needed most, distraction. Just being able to take his mind of his knee for a moment before reality set back in. 

Robert walked out of the showers; towel wrapped around his waist, and just grabbed his phone to send a quick text to Arek when it began to ring. He wasn't even surprised anymore, it had happened too often. He looked around before answering. 

"Hey, I just finished practice. Give me a minute to find a quiet spot, I'll call right back," he said. Too many people around him to be able to talk without interruptions. He got dressed and hurried to his car, hitting the redial button on his way there. 

"I'm bored, Bob. I can't do this anymore."

"You've got no choice, Arek. It sucks but it'll be worth it. If you rush this now, you'll push too hard and you'll snap something."

"I know. You're right. It's just..." Arek stopped to try and find the right words. 

"It's just... What is it, dziecko?"

Bob heard him take a deep breath. "I miss you. And I have nothing to distract me now, too much time to think."

"Trust me, distractions won't help. I'm busy all day, and all I can think about is our next phone call. That's why I'm flying to Amsterdam tonight."

"You're what?" Arek was almost yelling. "Don't mess with me, man, you're serious?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise. We've got two days off and all I want is to spend them with you."

"You're insane!"

"I'm just going to take that as a 'I want that too, Bob', if that's okay."

"Yes, yes, when do you fly?" Arek knew he sounded like an excited puppy, but he couldn't help it. This was just what he needed. Two days alone together. No real world, just having Bob all to himself. 

"Driving to the airport now, plane leaves in an hour. I don't want to see you when I land. I swear I'll fly straight back home."

"You know I'm allowed to walk again," Arek tried but he didn't want to risk Bob actually going straight back to Munich. How small that chance might be. "Fine, take a taxi then. You just made my day, I love you." 

Shit. Arek slapped a hand in front of his mouth. What was that? Did he just... 

"I'll see you in three hours, dziecko." And Bob had hung up. 

Arek wasn't sure if Robert didn't hear him, or if he was just being polite. Think before you speak, man, he berated himself. Before people run away from you. The ping on his phone pulled him out of his thoughts. 

'Love you too, skarbeńku'


	5. The Date Game

Even if this wasn't how Arek had pictured their first days together away from the Polish team, it had turned out pretty near perfect in his eyes. He even forgot about his injury for a while, which was a first since it had happened. 

Robert had arrived three hours and 24 minutes after he hung up. Not that he had been counting or anything. He walked into the arrival hall and was slightly disappointed that Arek had actually listened to him, but he knew that was his own fault. He quickly walked to the taxi stands and handed one of the drivers a note with the address. Safest way to arrive where he needed to be without any problems from wrong pronunciations. 

Before he realized, the taxi drove into a small street in the middle of the city, and the driver told him they'd arrived. Not what he had expected, but somehow it fit. Humble guy leads to humble living space. He thanked the man, paid him and got out. He wasn't sure whether he had recognized him, or that the man even cared who he was, but still he waited with ringing the doorbell until the taxi had left the street. This wasn't the time for paparazzi to find him. The door buzzed open, and he went in. 

"What the hell, Milik, you live in a building without an elevator?" Robert was panting from walking five sets of stairs. Taking them two at a time to be upstairs faster didn't help him. 

"Oh come on, Bob. Don't tell me you can't handle some stairs. You're paid to do sports!"

"Stairs ain't sports. Stairs are hell. How do you manage them with your knee?"

"I hobble. First days I did them sitting down. Come in, come in!" Arek grabbed Robert’s arm and pulled him inside, embracing him in a long kiss. 

"Hi," Bob said after they came up for air, slightly breathless. "So, this is where you live."

"You want the tour? Or are the directions to the sofa enough for now?"

Bob stared at him. "I thought you said you're not allowed any physical activities except the given exercises?"

"You're right," Arek sighed, leading the way to his living room. "Damn you."

"You know I want you. I haven't been able to think about anything else on the way over here." Robert stopped him and gave him another kiss. "But if one night of fun will set you back weeks? I don't want to be responsible for that!"

"Okay, fine. You're gonna make up for this."

"Aye aye. The moment you're fit, you're all mine."

"We can still make out. I mean..." Arek started, but realized that would never work. He'd never be able to stop himself. "Okay, never mind. We'll just take it slow." He sat down and patted on the spot beside him. "Dinner and a movie?"

"It's the middle of the day, Arek. Let's start with the movie." Robert grabbed his bag and started rummaging through it. "I have just the right- aha! There it is." He pulled out a map with a few discs.

"You brought movies?"

"I like to come prepared. What do you want?"

"You pick, I don't really care."

"How about..." He leafed through the discs. "Moulin Rouge?"

"Never seen it. Pop it in."

"Excuse me? How have you managed that?!" Robert sounded shocked. In all these years, he had never had anyone say that to him. 

Arek shrugged. "I was busy. What, it's just a movie, Bob."

"It's one of the greatest love stories ever told."

"Sounds like a good one for our date then."

He watched Robert walk to the TV and get everything working. He stared at the muscles in his back, the movement clearly visible under his shirt, he lingered on his ass, and had to steady himself to prevent falling of the couch when he watched Bob trying to find the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"Can't watch a movie without popcorn," Robert shouted from the kitchen. "So I brought some with me. Do you have a bowl?

"Second cupboard from the left."

He came back in the room with a large bowl of popcorn. "Now I'm ready to change your life." He said when he pressed play and sat down next to Arek, offering him some. 

"Can you stop staring at me? I'm kinda trying to watch the movie!" Arek gave him a soft slap on his leg, so he turned his attention back to the TV. He always loved watching people respond to his favorite parts. 

"I'm serious!" Arek grabbed a pillow and threw it in his face. "You're distracting me, it's impossible to pay any attention to the screen when I feel your eyes burning a hole in my cheek."

"I'm sorry, kwiatuszku. I'll try to be less handsome and distracting."

"Don't get cocky now." Arek sat a bit closer, grabbed Robert's arm and put it around his shoulder, using him as a pillow, keeping their hands interlocked. 

"It's so sad!" Arek exclaimed when the end credits appeared. "How is this a great love story? Where's the happy ending?"

"Not every great story has a happy ending, babe."

Arek sighed. "I know. Too bad." He started to get up, but got pulled back. 

"I don't think so, zabko."

"But the movie's over. I just wanted to put on something else." He looked at the older striker. "Or not, we can also just sit and talk." He let himself fall on to Robert. "That works for me." 

They ended up talking for hours until they were sitting in the dark. They kept jumping from stories about old injuries they had, to the latest movie they saw in cinema, from problems in training that Robert had that week to whether or not they should play at the same club one day. They were so comfortable, they fell asleep in each other's arms. 

They spent the next day in a similar fashion. They had gone outside for a walk, doctor's orders for Arek, and just talked. It was like they couldn't run out of topics. And each conversation had a subtle undertone, making it quite clear for both that this wasn't what they'd like to be doing right now, but it was a good alternative for now, the only option. 

Robert took a deep sigh while cutting up the vegetables they bought at the market. "I know this sounds childish, but I don't want to go home."

"Then stay here," Arek joked, standing next to him in his small kitchen. "We need a good striker. Just wear my jersey and no one will ever know."

Robert put an arm around his waist and pulled him in for a kiss. "They'll know. You're irreplaceable."

"It would be nice if this could last a bit longer though."

"I'll be back in a month. We've got a few days off then as well but for now there's the Bundesliga, the Pokal, and Champions League. And hopefully they'll miss me when I stay here, otherwise I'm doing something wrong."

"I'd like that." Arek smiled. "We'll sleep in the bed next time."

"I actually like your sofa."


	6. The Pokal Game

Robert's visit made it even more clear to Arek why he was working so hard to get fit again. He knew his season was over, if he was lucky he could play in one or two games, but everything was settled now. No way to win anymore, nothing to lose, so he was told several times already they weren't going to take any risks with him. 

"What if I'm not selected, what then?" Arek and Bob had continued their conversations after Robert had gone back to Munich, and they got longer and more serious every day. 

"Don't worry about that, skarbeńku, that's six weeks away. You'll be ready by then," Robert tried to comfort the younger player. "We need you, coach knows that."

"But I haven't played in a month already, and doc told me yesterday I can't play for at least three more weeks. It just wouldn't make sense."

"You're important, Arek. Maybe you'll play, maybe you won't, but we need you in the group. I need you there." He heard Arek take a deep breath. "It will be okay, I promise."

"I'll feel useless if I can't play, if I can't help."

"We will figure it out, babe. Too far away to worry too much about it now. Be strong. Six weeks is a lifetime. So much can happen." He tried to get Arek out of the negative spiral he had landed in. "Go to the club and do your exercises for today. You'll feel better."

"If you say so..."

"And text me when you're done. Gotta prepare for the game now, but I'll call you tomorrow."

"I will. Thanks for being there. Good luck! Give me some goals! Tschüss!"

"Ciao!" 

\-- 

"Fuck!" Arek shouted. He stared at the TV and chanted, "get up, get up, get up," like that would make things okay. He just saw Robert and Langerak, the BVB goalie, both go for the ball, but instead of one of them connecting to that, it was Langerak's fist connecting to Robert's face, and now he was lying there. All groggy. "Shit, shit, please move, come on." He kept talking to the TV, hoping the best, fearing the worst.

The night had begun so well. Arek had gotten back from the club feeling a whole lot better than he did before. Robert had been right. The exercises went so well that they decided to take the next step, make them all a bit more difficult, and his knee hadn't protested much. All he could do tonight was wait how the reaction would be. He could just relax and watch Robert's game. Semi-finals, Bayern playing Borussia Dortmund. He knew games against the bees were always special for Robert, him having played there before and all. 

Robert had begun so well, creating chances, and even opening the score. It seemed like Bayern had control, and Arek was focusing more on Bob than the game, when out of nowhere BVB had tied the score and the game went into overtime. That's when Arek started to worry. Overtime was always unpredictable; the game was up for grabs for both teams. And he knew Robert would be grumpy for a while after losing this one. So close to the final. 

That's when it happened, the collision, and Arek's world stopped. "Don't let him play on, look at him!" He was shouting at the referee on TV. "Those rules are made for a reason!" Robert had stood up again, looking around like he wasn't completely sure where he was for a moment, but it was clear he made up his mind and wanted to play on. 

"You idiot," Arek whispered, getting more and more worried as the game went on and he saw Bob getting paler by the minute. He wasn't sure who he was madder at. Langerak for causing the injury, Guardiola for letting him play on, or Robert himself, for continuing like this. He couldn't watch, but he also couldn't stop watching. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. His knee turned out worse than it seemed, it could be the other way around now. 

Arek missed the rest of the game, only keeping a close eye on Robert, annoyed every time the camera moved away from him. He needed the game to be over, so a doctor could do a full examination and tell them he'd be okay. 

The final whistle, and the teams were still in balance. At least on the scoreboard. They had to take penalties to decide, continuing to the final or having this game be the last. "Don't do it, Bob. Please. It's not worth it. Let your teammates fight for it," Arek said, as he saw him walk to the bench. He looked even worse there than he did on the field. This was bad. 

\--

It was three a.m. and Arek was still waiting for a sign of life from Germany. He had sent a text, 'You scared me out there. You're okay?' But he hadn't heard anything back. He knew the medical team had been doing tests, but that Robert hadn't been able to even send a quick message back had him worried. Every scenario had gone through his head by now, from minor headache to permanent brain damage. The photos he had seen didn't help calm him down at all. He was contemplating sending another text, but didn't know what else to send. "He's fine," Arek told himself, trying to be positive. "The doctors know what they're doing." 

He startled awake from a beep on his phone. He must have drifted off to sleep at some point. He grabbed his phone, saw he had a message from Robert, and all the worries from last night came flooding back. 

'I'm fine, just a concussion and some hairline fractures' was all the text said. 

Arek started typing frantically. How could he be fine, a concussion was a clear sign he wasn't fine at all! All he wanted was to be in the same room as Robert. Talk to his doctors, find out how bad it was. 

'Still in hospital. They've kept me awake all night. Call you in an hour. X' was all Arek got back. No elaboration, but at least he heard something. One more hour. He got up, took a long shower to get the stress out of his body, and made himself some breakfast to pass the time. He was forcing himself not to check the time every five minutes, that had never made it go any faster in the past. 

After what felt like hours, Arek's phone rang. 

"What happened? Are you okay? A concussion doesn't sound okay, Bob. Neither do hairline fractures. How long are you out?" Arek tripped over his words, trying to ask everything at once. 

"Calm down, please, I have a killer headache." Robert sounded tired. "I guess you saw the game?"

"Yes, I did. Stupid Langerak, he should've kept his distance."

"Mitch didn't do anything wrong, Arek. You know that. We both went for the ball, these things happen. He came to see me after the game, he was as worried as you sound right now," Robert said. 

"Okay, okay. I know you're right. But he hurt you, Bob. I have to blame someone," Arek admitted it wasn't fair, but it felt so good to be mad at their goalie. "What did the doctor say? Don't sugarcoat it, please. I can handle it."

"It's a concussion. And fractures in my nose and my jaw," Robert explained as well as he could. "I'll have to play with a mask for a few weeks to prevent it getting worse, but I can play."

"Oh hell no." Arek got angry. "You can't play. No way. At least not for a week, you hear me?"

Arek heard Robert laugh. "When did you become a doctor, tygrysek?"

"Don't you laugh at me, I'm being serious. What if you head a ball wrong? What if the mask somehow influences your play?"

"I will take it easy for a few days, I promise. I already talked to coach, I won't travel with the guys this weekend for the game. Going in for the mask fitting today, and it'll be done on Sunday. I'll test in practice if I can play with it. It's the semis, Arek, they need me."

"Just... Be careful, okay?"

"Always."


	7. The Final Game

"I hate that mask. It's restricting your play."

"Oh, come on, I wasn't that bad." It was the day after the first leg of the semifinals, the first game Robert played after the collision, and he had to play with the mask. At the moment, he was lying in bed in his hotel room, talking to Arek on the phone. "It just wasn't my night, it happens sometimes."

"And you know what I hate most?" Arek asked, like Robert hadn't even replied. "I hate how damn hot you look when you're wearing it."

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Like that's something to joke about. I can't help it. Can't explain it either, but it's making me want you here, instead of so far away." 

This conversation was nothing that Robert had prepared for. He had been expecting Arek to ask him again not to play, that's how all their conversations this last week went. He knew that he had to play with the mask to prevent severe trauma, until the fractures would be healed. Arek felt that, combined with the concussion, playing a week after the incident was too big a risk. "I should have sent you a photo, if that was all it took to get you to change your mind."

"Oh no, you're still an idiot for playing. At least you look good doing it, that's definitely a bonus."

"You know, there are things we can do together without being in the same room," Robert suggested. 

"Like what?" 

"Well..." But before Robert could think of something, there was a knock on his hotel room-door. "Hang on." He jumped up, but quickly had to sit down immediately. His head wasn't completely agreeing with his decision to play last night. He stood up again, slower this time, and walked to the door. 

"Bus leaves in five. Be ready."

"Danke. I'll be there." He grabbed his things while walking back to his phone. "Sorry about that, I gotta go."

"I heard. You will explain everything we can do when you're home. You know that, right? Can't leave me hanging like this."

"Oh, I will."

\--

Arek’s phone had been beeping almost non-stop for ten minutes now. Robert finally found a quiet moment to himself, and it was clear he wanted to share his celebrations with him, sending selfies from the party. Bayern Munich had won the league, and today was time for celebrating. It would have been so much better if Arek could have come to Munich, they had even talked about it, but Arek didn’t want to risk a setback in his recovery. He knew he should be happy about it, Robert had worked hard with his team this season, and he really was, but he couldn’t help how he felt. And he got more and more grumpy by the photo he received. He knew he should say something, but he didn’t want to ruin Robert’s mood. He sighed, and sent the text.  
‘Please go easy on the party pics, it hurts’  
Arek was scared to check his phone when it beeped again, not knowing how the older striker would respond.  
‘What's wrong, tygrysek?’  
‘We came second. It just hurts watching people celebrate league wins when I’ve got nothing. I know it’s silly, can't help it’  
‘Makes sense, sorry, should’ve thought of that. You know, there is a way we can celebrate together...’  
Arek smiled to himself. He should have known that he would understand. ‘What? Win the Cup next summer?’  
‘That… Wasn’t what I was thinking actually... But yes, we will definitely celebrate that one together’  
‘Wait, what were you thinking of then? And birthdays don’t count’ Arek tried to figure out what Robert meant, but he didn’t have any idea.  
‘Come to Bayern!’  
Arek burst into laughter. ‘Love that you want me closer, but no way I’m ready for that! I'll lose if I have to battle with you for the same spot’  
‘We can both play’  
Was Robert actually serious? ‘No, we can't… Clearly the alcohol is talking now ;) ‘  
‘We do at home’  
‘That's different, and you know it’  
‘Next year we’ll both win the league, and we’ll compare our medals!’  
Arek smiled, he felt much better already. Bob was like his personal cheerleader, never failing to make him happy. ‘It’s a deal. Now go and party, I’m sure you’re being missed! xxx’  
\--

Robert was waiting in the hotel lobby for Arek. He had arrived early, and had chatted with almost everyone from the team by now, but his roommate hadn't come through the doors yet. "Don't be an idiot," he whispered to himself. He knew Arek had been selected, but he was still worried that something had happened, that he wouldn't be able to join them. Even the text he got earlier from Arek, saying he was on his way, didn't help him to shake the negative thoughts. After what felt like another hour, the younger striker finally walked through the door, and Robert felt his body relax. It took some restraint not to run to him, but he managed to keep his strut somewhat calm. 

"Hi Bob," Arek said as he walked towards him. "Did you bring the mask?"

"I told you yesterday, I don't have to play with it anymore."

"I know." 

Robert stared at him for a moment, and nodded. "Yes, I brought it."

Arek was biting his lip to try not to grin like an idiot, only half succeeding. "Did you already get the key?"

"Yup. But we've got a team meeting in five."

"Just enough time to drop off my bag then."

They walked down the corridor together, Robert leading the way towards their room, pointing out where the others were. He had no idea why he was doing it, there were no changes in who shared with who, no new guys there, but he felt weird not to. "And here we are. We're the last one in the line. You think we were too loud last time?"

"We didn't do anything last time, bad knee, remember?"

"Oh, trust me, I remember. You did moan a lot."

"Let's go for a more fun reason this time."

"Later. We've got a quali to win first." Robert wanted to slap himself for saying it, because he'd been waiting for so long already, but he knew it was the right thing to do. First focus, afterwards they could celebrate the win or drown their sorrows, without having to think about being able to do anything the next day. "Don't look at me like that, with your puppy dog eyes, you know I'm right."

Arek sighed. "I know, I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it." He gave Robert a quick kiss and grabbed the key out of his hand. "Let's make sure we've got something to celebrate then," he said, opening the door. He looked around, dropped his bag on a chair, and walked back to the hallway. "Lead the way, my captain, you mentioned a team meeting."

\--

"You ready for this?" Robert asked, walking by Arek in the tunnel on his way in front of the line. 

"Been ready for weeks, can't wait to play. Let's make it a good one." He gave him a soft pat on the back, pushing him forwards. No time for lingering, they had a game to start, and they couldn't begin without the striker leading them on to the field. 

The first 45 minutes went by so fast, almost too fast. Poland had a lot of chances, but somehow they just wouldn't go in. Arek had noticed in the field that Robert had some slight hesitations to go into aerial duels in the beginning, but saw them get less and less with each duel the striker won. Seeing his confidence grow helped Arek as well. He had started off a bit rusty, after not having played for that long, but with every ball contact he felt more and more like his feet were doing what his mind was telling them. 

"Can you play on?" Robert asked Arek walking off the field. "You gotta say it if you can't, it's okay." 

"Don't worry about me, Bob. I'm fine. I promise." Arek put his arm on his shoulder and pulled him a bit closer. "I'm fit. Really."

Robert put his head on the younger striker's shoulder, walking to the dressing room. "I can't help it, you know that. I'm worried. Every time they go in for a tackle, I'm worried."

"One of the reasons I love you. But I need you to be selfish now. We need you to be more selfish. We gotta win. Stop worrying, be more of a daredevil. You don't need the mask for that."

The second half started similar to the first, but after fifteen minutes Arek managed to get through the Georgian defense, and Robert was the first one to celebrate with him. 

"Nice one, tygrysek." 

Arek grinned. "I have to do everything myself around here."

"Is that a challenge?" Robert's eyes had a twinkle, which usually meant trouble. He took Arek's advice and tried to only focus on the ball, leading to the fastest hattrick he ever had. Within four minutes he found the net three times, twice it was Arek who set it up. He should thank him for that, he thought, as Arek pulled him into a group hug. Later. 

\--

"We worked quite well together, zabko." Robert looked at Arek, sitting at the bar. They were finally alone, after celebrating the win with the team. 

"We did. But did you really have to make three?"

"No. I didn't HAVE to, but more is always better, right?"

"Show-off." Arek stood up and took Robert's wrist, leading him to their room. "Do you have any energy left, Bob? Or are you going to make me wait even longer?"

Robert snickered, and took a few quick steps closer, so he was able to kiss the back of Arek's neck. "Oh, I can still go on for hours." 

Arek turned around to face Robert, and staring into his ice blue eyes made him forget what he wanted to say. 

"Cat got your tongue?" Robert took a step forward so that Arek was pressed against the wall. He saw him take a deep breath. "How's your stamina, Arek?"

"Yes. Absolutely." He shook his head, trying to think. "I mean, good. Yes, good."

That was all that Robert wanted to hear, before going in for a kiss. He opened his mouth slightly, and Arek took over, exploring Robert's mouth inch by inch. 

"Wait, hold on." Arek stopped, softly pushing Robert away. 

"What's wrong?"

"No, no, nothing. It's just..." Arek started searching his pockets. "The key. Can't find it."

Robert felt in his own pockets, and took them out. "Look what I've got," he said, and opened the door. "After you." He put up the 'do not disturb' sign, and locked the door. "Now, where were we..."

\--

Arek woke up, and couldn't help but smile. Bob was still asleep, with his head on Arek's chest, looking so peaceful. He tried to get some feeling in his hand back by wiggling his fingers, but Robert was blocking his arm. He carefully tried to move slightly without waking him up. 

"What are you doing?" Robert mumbled. 

So much for not waking him. "Sorry, arm's asleep."

"And why isn't the rest of you?"

"Not everyone needs a ten hour beauty sleep, love." Arek joked. 

Robert gave him a soft shove. "Remember who you're talking to."

"Please forgive me. Oh captain, my captain."

"Oh, shut up," Robert said, sitting up, straddling Arek, who was clearly just as ready for round two as he was.


End file.
